Our Way
by suchasasshole
Summary: In Catching Fire What if Peeta wasn't lying? How much would change? Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games.
1. Chapter 1

I hear Prim behind me as I head out the door. "Where are you going, Katniss?" I turn around and see her looking at me with innocent doe eyes.

"I'm just going to Peeta's house. I need to talk to him." I hug her tightly and walk out the door. I have to walk in the snow to reach his house and it soaks through my shoes. I knock on the door and by the time he opens it my feet are going numb.

"Hey you don't have to knock, you know."

I walk through the door as I say, "What if you didn't want me here?"

"I always want you here, Katniss." He looks at my face and says, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"No it's okay. Peeta, I came here because I do want to be with you. I do love you, really and truly. I've just always been scared of the Hunger Games and never wanted to start a family."

"So, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that we should get married our way, not their way."

"They wouldn't like that and your mother definitely wouldn't approve."

"Which is why we don't tell anybody. It doesn't even need to be official. Even Haymitch wouldn't approve."

"So, you mean like a toasting? What brought this on?"

"Yeah, and my nightmares changed. They're like yours now. I lose you and I can't take it."

"Are you sure? I wouldn't hold you to it anyway." The way he looks at me nearly drives me to tears. He's so caring and sincere, I can see it in his eyes.

"Peeta, I don't deserve you. I never could."

"You deserve someone who loves you and I do love you. To tell you the truth, you deserve better than me."

I shake my head and the tears fall. "No, I don't. How could I when I hurt the people I love so much? When I've hurt you so much?"

By now I'm sobbing and he takes me in his arms. "Hey, don't cry," he whispers into my hair. "What hurts me is when you're hurting. It's okay."

I nod, but I can't seem to stop the tears. I lift my head and see that I've soaked his shirt. I place my hands on his shoulders, pull myself up on my toes, and kiss him. He takes my face in his hands and kisses me back. He pulls away and rests his forhead on mine.

"I love you so much," he whispers and kisses my nose.

"I love you too, Peeta. I hope you know that."

"I do now," he says and soon after we are married.


	2. Chapter 2

We lay in front of the fireplace. I have my head on his chest and I can hear his every heartbeat. They are still incredibly fast like mine are. I can feel my heart still pounding in my chest. My breathing is starting to calm. We may have just made the biggest mistake of our lives, but right now all that matters is that we're together.

Eventually, he speaks. "Do you regret it," he asks.

I raise my head and kiss him lightly. His lips are heated like in our first Games, but this time it's not from fever. "I couldn't possibly regret loving you."

He laughs. "I'm just checking. You know I couldn't stand it if you did or if you were mad at me. I love you too much."

"I love you too." Then, another thought hits me. "Oh my gosh."

"What? Is something wrong?"

"Um, I don't know yet," I say and my voice is shaking. "Peeta, what if I get pregnant? What did we just do?"

"Katniss," he starts to say, but I cut him off.

"I've got to go. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come over here." I pull on my shoes and start towards the door. He calls out after me, but I ignore him. A million thoughts race through my mind as I walk towards my house. _What if I really am pregnant? What am I going to do? Should I tell anyone? _Unlike the others, I have an answer to the last question. I'm not going to tell anyone. At least, not until I know for sure. I walk inside and Prim comes to greet me.

"Katniss, I think they might show the wedding dresses tonight!" She beams up at me.

I shake my head. "Probably not, Prim. They just took the pictures yesterday."

"Well, we're supposed to watch the television tonight, anyway. I don't know what for, though." She plops onto the couch and crosses her legs like a lady. I guess she really is one, definitely more of one than I am.

I sit down next to her and turn on the television. Caesar Flickerman is on the screen. I'm not paying much attention until I see the picture of me in a wedding dress flash up. You hear the people in the crowd boo and cheer according to which ones they like and the ones they don't like. I couldn't care less about any of them. This is probably torture for Gale. The pictures stop and he says, "Let's send Katniss to her wedding in style," and the crowd cheers. I'm about to turn it off when he says, "Stay tuned for an important message from President Snow."

"What do you think it is," I ask my mother.

She says, "It's probably the reading of the card for the Quarter Quell."

"What? That doesn't make any sense. The Games aren't for," I start to say, but I'm cut off by the sight of the President.

"Again, it's approaching time for the annual Hunger Games. And this year is especially exciting because this year is our third Quarter Quell." A young boy in a white suit brings a wooden box to him. President Snow sets it on his podium and pulls out a card marked with a golden 25. He reads the card and I think how much worse it had to have been to be voted into the Games by the people in your district. The next card isn't any better. That year twice the number of tributes was sent from each district. That was the year Haymitch won.

Then, he gets to the third card, the card for this year. I pay full attention to this card. He says, "As a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot prevail, this year's tributes will be reaped from the district's existing pool of victors." _The victors are supposed to be the strongest among us, _I think. Then it clicks in my mind. District 12 has three remaining victors. Two males and one female. I will be sent back into the arena.

I run out the door. I'm not even aware of where I'm going. I just run. Somehow I end up in the basement of one of the unused houses in the Victor's Village. I wrap up in a sheet on the floor. Tears fall from my eyes. I have to save Peeta. I can't be worrying whether or not I'm pregnant. That's not important anymore. What's important is keeping Peeta alive. _I need to talk to Haymitch. _I get up and walk out of the house.

I enter his house and see him sitting at the table, drinking. "Did you come to ask me to go in for the boy," he slurs.

"No," I say. "I came for a drink." He laughs and hands me his bottle and grabs a new one. I wipe the mouth of the bottle and drink. "I know last time you picked me."

"Yes, I did. This time I've got to do what he wants. And you know what that is, right?"

I do know. He wants me to stay alive, but that won't work for me. He has to survive. He needs to live. "Yeah, I don't really like that plan. You need to help me keep him alive. He's a better person than I am and he deserves to live."  
"You've got that right. At least, you've got the part about him being a better person than you right. You are a good person, but he's a better person than all of us."

"Yes, you're right. Thanks, for well, yeah all this crap." I stand up on my shaky legs and walk out the door. When I reach my door Gale is there, waiting for me. I collapse into his arms and black out.


	3. Author's Note

A/N: Sorry if you were expecting a new chapter. I want to update, but a girl at school has my copy of Catching Fire right now. She's supposed to give it back tomorrow, so I'll update as soon as I can. I need the book for my next chapter, but I should update soon.


	4. Chapter 3

**A/N: **I'm sorry I took forever to update I've been really busy lately. In this chapter I just skipped ahead to the reaping. I know this chapter is really short, but I really liked this ending. I should write a new chapter tomorrow. I'm supposed to get my book back tomorrow.

Today is the day I'm being sent to the Capitol to die. When I leave today I won't be coming back. I hate to think about it, but it's true. I'm going to die in the arena.

Effie calls my name and I walk up the steps to the stage. She walks over to the other bowl and pulls out a slip of paper. "Haymitch Abernathy," she calls. Peeta volunteers. My heart sinks. I don't want to lose either of them, but Peeta would die for me.

They escort us straight to the train after the reaping. We don't get our last goodbyes. I'll never see Prim again. The thought nearly brings me to tears, but I force myself to stay strong. I'll never see Gale either, but that may be a good thing.

I've hurt Gale and Peeta. I wish there were some way I could make it better, but there's not. There's nothing I can do about anything. I can't do anything about the Capitol. I can't do anything about Gale. I can't do anything about the mistake Peeta and I made. I can't do anything about the fact that I'm pregnant. I feel like I'm drowning and there's no one here to save me.

I'm riding to my death at the hands of the Capitol.


	5. Chapter 4

As the train carries me farther and farther away from my home, I look outside through the window. I won't be coming back this time. I'll never return. The train moves at a speed so fast that I struggle to take in what I left behind. The scenery is a blur and so are my thoughts.

I hear Peeta behind me, "We can still write to them. Haymitch could-could deliver them for us, if-if we need him to." Isn't it like him to offer some sort of solace in a difficult situation? I can tell he's upset, but I see the determined look in his eyes. It reflects the same strength in my heart. Neither of us is scared to face death. He's only afraid to lose me, just like I'm afraid to lose him. Yet he doesn't know all that he's about to lose. Ignorance is truly bliss.

I make my way into my room and I sit up on the bed. Alone. Staring at the wall, I think about how I'll never get the chance to write those letters, just like the thank-you's I was supposed to write on the Victory Tour.

I can't even cry. I wish I could. Maybe then my heart wouldn't feel so heavy. I wish I could cry for my family. I wish I could cry for Peeta. I let one tear fall and it slides over my lips, leaving a salty aftertaste on my tongue. A single tear for our baby. I need to let them go if I'm going to die in the arena. One by one, I say goodbye and release them. Peeta, Prim, Gale... The list doesn't even seem to cease. Finally, I'm empty, void of any attachments. The only one I hold on to is my baby. I need to hold on to it for just a little while longer; though a voice in the back of my head reminds me that soon enough I'll have to let it go as well. The emptiness is a great relief.

Keeping my gaze on the same spot in the wall, I lose track of time. Eventually, Effie comes to my door and calls me to dinner. I must admit that I walk lighter with their weight gone from my mind and my conscience now clear.

The dinner is quiet and uneventful. Multiple times, Peeta attempts to start a conversation with Effie and fails at each try. They're the most talkative people I know and they don't even have the heart to speak. The dinner is sort of depressing as the silence hangs in the air like a dark rain cloud. The Games are the sole thing on everyone's minds. They all know about my plan to die. Peeta's plan is for him to be the one to die. The only sound is silverware gently scraping against the plates.

Peeta clears his throat and compliments, "Your new hair looks great, Effie."

This year her hair is gold. "I had it dyed to match Katniss' pin. I was thinking we could get a bracelet for Haymitch and an ankle bracelet for you, Peeta. That way we would look like a team."

She doesn't realize what my symbol means now. It doesn't matter, really. If she were really a rebel she wouldn't put a symbol on jewelry. It's too durable. You would out it on something that could be destroyed in a second if necessary.

After the dinner Effie says, "Well, let's watch the recap of the reapings, shall we?" The reapings aren't any worse than they normally are. Except, maybe in District Four. A young woman with flowing dark hair is called. She screams as an older woman, bound by her need for a cane just to be able to walk, volunteers for her. In another district, a woman with three children clinging to her is called. For her, the tables are turned. Instead of losing her children, her children may lose her. It's just as despicable as every other year. Maybe even more so. The Quells always are worse.

When it's over Haymitch and Effie go to their rooms without another word. Peeta says to me, "Why don't you go on to bed? I'm gonna stay up for a little while longer, but you should get some sleep." I nod and go to my room, knowing that I won't be getting any rest tonight.


	6. Chapter 5

The sound of twigs breaking and crushed foliage gets louder as the mutts run towards us. Peeta grabs my wrist, moves his hand to the small of my back and pushes me up onto the Cornucopia.

"Save yourself!" he shouts, his back towards me. I shake my head and grab his hand, trying to pull him up with me.

I'm too late as the mutt with caramel colored hair and brown eyes lunges at him. It's like a game of tug of war that I have no chance of winning. Peeta's hand is literally ripped from mine. _That's the girl he killed_, I remember. It's as if she's seeking revenge. The others move in on him, growling and barking, their eyes narrowed in hatred. That's not the worst part, though. Their fangs are covered in foam and saliva. They are practically starving for their prey. They drag him into the mouth of the Cornucopia. I force myself to look away, only for the sound of cracking bones to ring through my ears. I'm too stunned to move and the only thought that goes through my head is how much pain he's in. His bones are breaking and so is my heart.

Eventually the mutts withdraw from their prey. I hear his weak moans and cries of agony from inside the Cornucopia. Leaning over the edge, I finally am able to get a good look at him. He is a bloody mess. His body is ripped open and his arms and legs are positioned at awkward angles. He hardly looks human.

I don't have any weapons, so I can't do anything to put him out of his misery. I have no way to kill myself to make him the victor so that he'll be taken to the Capitol and be treated there. There's absolutely nothing I can do. No shortcut. No avenue out. All I can do is watch him slowly die as his breathing loses its pace.

Adrenaline courses through my veins and for a moment, I'm mute as an Avox. Somehow I find the strength, through my tears and the burning pain in my heart, to let out a high pitched scream.

Suddenly, someone bursts into my room. The light from the hallway blinds me momentarily, but after my eyes adjust, I see who barged in; a Capitol attendant.

I ignore his presence and silently curse, wishing it were Peeta here. He stares at me like I'm a lunatic. Bullets of sweat cover my body, drenching my nightgown and tears stream down my face. My hair must look like a bird's nest; I can understand why he's looking at me the way he is.

I straighten my back and stand up. Regaining my composure, I think of something that will comfort me.

"Can you get me a glass of milk? Make sure it's warm," I order.

The attendant turns on his heel and leaves the room, leaving the door wide open.

I don't bother to fix my appearance in the bathroom before walking out into the hallway. A walk around the train is just what I need to get my mind off of the nightmare that is still causing my body to violently tremble. Peeta must be asleep and I don't want to wake him.

As I'm walking, I hear a noise coming from the TV room and know that he isn't. I walk in without making a sound. He must sense my presence and turns around. The moment he sees my face, he stands up and pulls me into a tight embrace. I melt into him and tightly wrap my arms around his neck.

"It's okay, it was only a nightmare." I hadn't even told him what happened, but he knows me too well. "I'm here with you now, Katniss."

His lips just brush my neck, filling me with warmth that spreads from head to toe.

The attendant walks in and only then do we pull apart. He sets the tray down and I notice the sad look in his eyes as they drift towards my stomach. I look away and he leaves. _Am I showing already? I can't be. If I were then Peeta would know and he hasn't said anything. It's safe to assume he doesn't._

"What was that look about?" Peeta asks.

"I-I don't know," I stammer.

Peeta shrugs and picks up a tape from the box next to the couch. It's the 50th Games; Haymitch's Games. He doesn't say anything and puts it back down. We both know very well that this isn't the best time to watch the Games or relive it would only bring on more nightmares.

Peeta stands up and takes my hand. "Come on," he says. "Let's go to bed. You need to sleep. I see the exhaustion in your eyes."

I follow him to my room. He slips into my bed and pulls me into it with him. I lay my head on his chest and with his strong arms around me and his heart beating in my ear I drift off. I have no more nightmares that night, knowing he's there.


	7. Author's Note 2

A/N: I know that you guys were expecting a new chapter when you saw this. I'm sorry! But _**please**_ keep reading. Right now, I'm trying to write a novel and I have to work on my writing portfolio for a fine arts school I'm applying to. I'm probably going to be really busy soon. Lately, I've been getting less and less reviews. I'm only bringing this up because I'm wondering whether or not I should continue this story. Either review or send me a message telling me whether or not I should keep writing this. Also, any constructive criticism on past chapters would be great. Thanks you guys!


	8. Chapter 6

_**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who added me and/or this story to your favorites and alerts. I want to give special thanks to JezTheMockingjay74 for reviewing. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**_

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Hunger Games. _

Prep is more stressful than ever. The whole team is a wreck and they each break down at frequent intervals. Out of the three of them, Octavia is the worst. She whimpers and cries through the whole morning and can hardly work, she's so distraught. The whole morning moves slower and is more agonizing than it ever has been. The agony comes from the emotional stress, not the waxing and vile liquids they soak me in.

The prep team's tears remind me of the ones that are surely being shed at home, but I try not to think about it. I can't think about home or my family. I certainly can't think of Gale. I have to focus on keeping Peeta alive, even if it is a suicide mission.

By the time Cinna shows up I'm exhausted. I sigh and say, "You're not going to start crying on me, are you?"

He chuckles. "No, I'm not. I'm sorry about that. I'll talk to them."

"Thank you, I don't think I can go through that again."

He gives me a small smile, puts his arm around me and leads me into lunch. We hardly say a word the whole time. I devour the food and don't even worry about making myself sick.

After lunch, I decide to tell him. I breathe slowly. "Cinna, I'm pregnant. Peeta and I made a mistake, but there's nothing we can do about it now."

His eyes widen for a second, but then all evidence of his shock is gone and his expression is more thoughtful. "How far along are you?"

"I'm just three months."

He raises an eyebrow. "Was this before or after the Quarter Quell announcement?"

"Before, of course! I wouldn't have done it if I had known I'd be going into the Games."

He nods and his gaze lowers to my abdomen. "Well, you're not showing yet, but if anything changes, I can alter your clothes to hide it, if you want me to. Have you told Peeta?

I shake my head. "No, and I'm not going to. I'm going to die anyway, so what does it matter?"

His eyebrows knit together. "Not necessarily," he says.

"Yes necessarily, if he dies and I live, I couldn't handle it. I can't have a child without him." I wrap my arms around my waist and look towards the floor and blink back tears.

He sighs, but doesn't argue. "Come on, it's time to get you dressed."

When the prep team comes to help, he sends them away.

My costume is deceptively simple at first. It's a plain black jumpsuit and my hair is in the braided style from my first Games. My makeup is dark and dramatic. My cheekbones are sharper and my eyebrows arch higher. My features are sharp and my gaze is dramatic and fierce. Cinna sets a half crown on my head and I feel the weight of the heavy black metal. It's similar to the crown Peeta and I shared as victors. Cinna dims the light in the room until it's at a level similar to twilight. He takes my wrist and presses a small button sewn into the fabric.

At his touch, the jumpsuit lights up and the colors shift in a pattern strongly resembling the glow of an ember. I'm still the girl on fire but I am no longer soft and flickering. I am dangerous if you get too close and destructive, like a wild fire. It's as if I've come from the fire itself.

"Cinna, this is incredible. I think that this just may give me the strength to face the others."

He thanks me and places his hand on my shoulder. My dangerous look empowers me and I find the strength in myself that's been fading since I found out I was pregnant.

An hour later, I'm escorted to the Capitol square. I step into the chariot and stroke the neck of one of the horses pulling our chariot. Its coat is a shiny black and its eyes are bright.

Peeta climbs in beside me and rests his hand on my shoulder. "They didn't give us any instructions this year."

"Hold my hand." I hold my hand out and he clasps it tightly.

"Always." He laughs. "This is even worse than last year. Most of the victors just look pathetic."

He's right. The bodies of the tributes from District 6 show the effect of the drug, morphling. Their skin is yellow and it sags. Their eyes are overly large and stand out from their faces. The older tributes' costumes hang off their bodies awkwardly.

Once the procession looks like it's about to begin, Peeta says "I guess we should turn our costumes on now."

"We'll be the favorites again," I say and I'm right. As soon as the Capitol citizens catch sight of us, they can't take their eyes off of us. But we don't give them our attention. We look straight ahead and don't respond to their shouts.

This year, we will not play to their favor. We will play by our own rules. We are more than pieces in their game.

That night, after I've showered and scrubbed the makeup from my face, Peeta comes to my door to say goodnight. I take his wrist in my hand and pull him to me. "Please, Peeta, stay with me."

He pulls me into his arms. I feel his breath on my ear. "Always," he says.

I pull him into my room. We lay on the bed and he holds me in his arms. He presses his lips to my cheek and whispers "Sleep."

I do.

_A/N: This chapter was hard for me to write because I kept getting stuck on it. This chapter is pretty much like a filler chapter and I hope it wasn't too horribly boring. I left out the part with the sugar cubes and Finnick because I couldn't find a way to rewrite it and I didn't want to copy it from the book. Please review! I'll update as soon as possible!_


	9. Chapter 7

The next morning, I wake naturally in the absence of Effie pounding at the door. I turn my head and look up at Peeta. He's already awake and looking into my face.

"Neither of us had any nightmares last night," he says.

"I dreamed, but it wasn't a nightmare."

"What was it about?" he asks.

I sigh. "It was a mixture of different dreams, but they were all happy. Some of them were about you." _And some of them were about our baby, _I think, but I don't say it.

Peeta sits up and pulls me onto his lap. He kisses me and his hands are wrapped around my waist. I knot my fingers in his hair and press against him.

There's a knock at the door and I pull away. I slip off the bed and open the door. There's an Avox standing there with a sheet of paper in his hand. I look into his face and see familiar red hair. Darius. They've turned him into an Avox.

I get a sick feeling in my stomach. I take the paper and close the door. I hand the paper to Peeta and say, "Read it."

"It's from Haymitch and Effie. It says that since we're capable of handling ourselves, we're free to do whatever we want. It's a shame we can't go anywhere," he says.

"Yes, we can," I say. "We can go to the roof."

He nods. "I can get some food to take with us." He walks out the door and tells me to stay in the room.

I dress quickly while he's gone. When I'm done I sit on the bed and fold my legs. I absentmindedly rub my lower abdomen in small circles.

When Peeta opens the door, I stop and stand up. He walks in carrying a wicker picnic basket. He says, "Let's go," and wraps his arm around my waist. He leads me up to the roof.

We settle in and I sit close to Peeta. We lace our fingers together and I lean against him. I open the basket and pull out an apple. I toss the apple up and catch it several times before throwing it into the force field. It comes straight back to my hand. I say, "Think fast," and throw it back.

Peeta catches it and throws it back for me to catch. We turn it into a game of sorts and play it for at least an hour before we eat.

The food is rich despite its simplicity and I start to grow sleepy. I lean against him and he wraps his arm around my shoulders.

Peeta leans down and kisses me lightly. "Is this okay?" he asks.

"Of course, it is. We're married aren't we?"

"We are. Speaking of which, are you—? Did I—? I just want to know, are you pregnant?"

I sigh. I should've seen this coming. Of course he would ask. I can't flat out lie to his face. Especially when Haymitch and I both promised to tell him everything. "Yes."

At that one word, tears fill his eyes. When he whispers my name, his voice shakes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"It's not like it's your fault. I'm the one that instigated it. I don't blame you at all."

"I know you don't. I'm just sorry. I know you can do this without me. You'll be okay."

I shake my head. "No, I won't. I can't do this." Tears run down my face.

"You're much stronger than you've ever given yourself credit for." As he speaks, tears begin to roll down his face.

"I'm just scared. I'm afraid that if you die, I'll shut down like my mother did. I'm afraid that without you're help I'll screw the baby up and raise it all wrong."

"You won't. You're stronger than your mother ever was. When your father died, you took care of her and practically raised her for several years. You already have experience and I know you'll be a great mother."

I sigh and lay down. I rest my head on Peeta's lap. He strokes my hair and pushes my hair back from my face. I curl up and quickly fall asleep.

After a while, Peeta gently wakes me. A gorgeous blend of orange, red, and yellow spreads across the sky. "I thought you would want to see it," he says.

He's right. I know I only have a few sunsets left. I also know this is a sight our baby will never get to see.

Night falls and no one comes to get us for dinner. We go back and go straight to my room. I climb into bed and Peeta follows me. I rest my head, right over his heart. We wrap our arms around each other. I fall asleep with his heartbeat in my ear and his hand on my stomach, over our baby. For the moment, we are at peace.


End file.
